


Watch Her Disappear

by StormyNightStories



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Cults, Detroit, Detroit Noir, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Investigations, Missing Persons, Multi, Mystery, Private Investigators, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 02:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15676179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyNightStories/pseuds/StormyNightStories
Summary: "A wooden cherry scent is faintly breathing the airI hear your champagne laughYou wear two lavender orchidsOne in your hair and one on your hipA string of yellow carnival lights comes on with the duskCircling the lake with a slowly dipping haloAnd I hear a banjo tangoAnd you dance into the shadow of a black poplar treeAnd I watched you as you disappeared."Tom Waits - Watch Her Disappearor,How well do you really know the ones you love?





	1. Gone

Detroit, Michigan. September 7th, 1951.

You held a cigarette in your fingertips and pulled it to your red lips, and puffed on it. You waited patiently on the upholstered seat, your high heel shoe clicking occasionally, revealing your nervousness.

Your Catherine had been missing for two months. You knew something was awry, when she left no note, didn’t bring any clothing, and was just simply gone. She wasn’t that type of girl, she wouldn’t have run away.

You were the prime suspect at first, and the Detroit Police Department had done their interviews, and you were not considered suspect. The police dismissed her as a runaway. 

“She probably went off to Hollywood, every girl wants to find their dreams there, sweetheart! She’s a runaway, plain and simple. We have to close the case, Miss (y/n).”

“Hollywood? You don’t understand, she was a good Christian girl, she wouldn’t have run away to Hollywood of all places. She didn’t even own a television!”

“There’s nothing else we can do, I’m sorry.”

No one seemed to want to help you anymore. You could feel a twist in your gut that something dark happened and you were rarely wrong.

So you waited outside the office of “Anderson and Associates Investigations”, a private detective group that claimed to be able to “solve the unsolvable.” They were your only hope at this point to find Catherine. You glanced at your friendship bracelet on your wrist, beads and pendants made out of both of your favorite things and colors. A trinket of a tea cup, a book, and a yellow heart was on yours. 

“I’m always by your side, if you have this.” She said as you exchanged bracelets. She kissed your cheek. 

You both shared a bond that was deeper than friendship. You once confessed that you had felt something more for her, a love, perhaps. Being a sapphic was incredibly taboo, but she returned that love in a different way. “I don’t feel romantic toward you, (Y/N), but I trust you and love you more than I’ve loved anyone.” You both laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling, only a candle lighting the room. You shared a small kiss, it was pure and blissful, and you felt that kiss linger on your lips for a long time. You held each other with mutual understanding of what you were. Connected, but not meant for love. 

Your pining for Catherine passed, for the most part. You had flings with others, men and women, but nothing ever quite stuck, you were content with life as it was, and took it as it came.

Then Catherine was gone, and it felt like a piece of you went missing too. 

A bearded man opened the door to the office. His gray hair was slicked back and longer than most men, and his beard was slightly unkempt. He wore a striped button-up shirt with slacks, and shoes that desperately needed waxed. He had a gruff voice. “Miss (Y/L/N)?” You were startled out of your reminiscing, and stood up immediately. “We’ll see you now.”

You were led into his office, and he was accompanied by a younger man. He stood as you entered. He looked more put together, in a three piece suit with a polka dotted tie, his hair slicked back aside from a few rebellious pieces that dangled toward his forehead. He smiled at you with a genuine warmth. “Please have a seat.” He gestured toward a chair in front of the large oak desk. Neither of them sat down until you did. The younger man held a notepad. “Can I get your name, please?”

You spoke your name with a very slight tremble. They were practically your last hope, and you needed them to take your case. 

“My name is Connor and this is Hank.” He still held that warm smile, it calmed your nerves a bit. The cigarette helped too. You tapped the tip on an ashtray on Hank’s desk.

“Tell us what brought you in.” Hank asked. He looked gruff and almost not interested. He probably suspected you were here to have them catch your significant other cheating or some other simple, easy to solve situation. 

“My friend is missing,” you started simply, pulling a picture from your purse and sliding it across the table. She was a beautiful woman, with long blonde hair that touched the bottom of her back. She kept it in a braid or a bun almost always. She had these sad, bright grey eyes that always reminded you of morning fog. Your heart ached as you spoke. “Her name is Catherine Martin, she went missing two months ago. She was my roommate, and every officer I’ve spoken to has written her off as a runaway. That’s why I’m here.”

“What makes you think she isn’t?” Hank challenged. Connor glanced between the two of you. 

“She wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have anywhere to go. She has no family to speak of, and If she intended on leaving, she would have told me. I was the closest to family she had.”

“I see. And you didn’t find any notes or anything to indicate she was thinking of departing?” Connor asked, vigorously writing.

“No, nothing, she’s just vanished. I have a feeling it’s something sinister. I just know she wouldn’t go like that. Of course I know how crazy this sounds, everyone probably thinks they know the people they love, but I genuinely did, and something is wrong here.” You were trembling with frustration and fear. You feared what happened to Catherine, and if these men would take you seriously. “And of course I have payment.” Your hand met your head, realizing you were rambling. You scrimped and scraped everywhere you could to afford this. 

“No need for that, miss.” Connor held his hand out. Hank jerked his head at Connor, aghast. “We’ll take the case, pro bono.”

Hank looked like he was going to reach across his desk at Connor. 

“Are you positive?” 

“Ma’am, if anyone can find her, we will. I wouldn’t feel right taking money from someone who needs our help.” 

Hank rolled his eyes, but you ignored it. 

You felt hope for the first time in two months. “Thank you! Thank you both, I-I don’t know what to say.” 

“Well, first things first,” Hank grumbled shooting a glare at Connor who seemed to have ignored it, “we need to search your place. You said she was your roommate and we may find something you’ve missed.” 

“Oh of course! Please do.” You nodded. 

“Then it’s settled, we’ll start tonight.” 

Considering you had taken a taxi to their agency, you rode in the back of Hank’s car to your home. It was a small townhouse, but it was plenty for yourself and Catherine. You opened the door to the smell of lavender and lemon. It was Catherine’s favorite. Another pang at your heart. “Please come in,” you welcomed, “would you like water or coffee?”

“No thanks,” they said in unison before frowning at each other. 

“Here, I’ll… show you to her room. I looked it up and down, but you have free reign, look at whatever you need.” You walked upstairs and down the hall to her room. “She kept it so tidy and organized.” You said in a reminiscent sort of way, opening the door.  
It smelled like her, clean and floral. If you didn’t know better she would have been in here, reading or listening to the radio. 

Connor and Hank immediately went to work. They looked in all the places you did, under the bed, in the closet, in her drawers. Then, Connor did something strange, he put his ear to the hardwood floor. 

Hank furrowed his brow, “Connor, what are you-” 

“Shh.” He replied putting his hand up. He knocked on each floorboard, carefully, one after the other. One sounded only slightly different than the other. Without asking and without warning, he pulled hard on the floorboard, snapping it open. You were so shocked you didn’t stop him, nor would you have had time to stop him even if you wanted to. 

“What the Hell do you think-” Hank started, before Connor reached into the floor, pulling out something wrapped in a cloth. 

You scurried over and dropped to your knees, taking it from Connor and unwrapping it gingerly. It was a diary. 

You flipped through it and every page was filled in, dates, times, entries dating back years. “Oh dear God.” You sighed, exasperated. 

You flipped to the last page. 

“Oh dearest sweet diary, 

Today is the day! The very day I’ve been waiting for. My king is coming to take me away. He said it’s a surprise and won’t tell me where we’re headed, but I can tell you it will be magical, diary.

All he told me was to trust him and that he would take care of everything. Of course I believe him, he’s never led me astray before, nor any of his children. He said not to bring a single thing and to tell no one. He said where we were going would have all we needed. 

He’s written to me about how I’m blind to the true nature of the world how he’ll bring me out of this darkness into the light. Can you imagine, diary? True, blissful, light and truth! 

I think this will be my last entry to you, diary! And it will be my last time seeing (Y/K). Gosh I’ll miss her, but at least she has my bracelet to remember me by. She’ll be okay, she’s tougher than I’ve ever been. 

But this is the start of my new life! There’s no such things as endings, diary. 

Only new beginnings. 

Love always and goodbye,

Catherine”

You felt your head spinning, trying to wrap your mind around this. You’re legs went like jelly and you fell onto her bed, clutching her last words in your hands. 

Your words were barely a whisper. “Oh God Catherine what have you done?”


	2. Breathe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah, I think that I might break  
> Lost myself again and I feel unsafe  
> Be my friend, hold me  
> Wrap me up, unfold me  
> I am small, I'm needy  
> Warm me up and breathe me."
> 
> Sia - Breathe Me 
> 
> or, 
> 
> Threats and Fluff

You didn’t speak as you handed them the last words you had of your Catherine. They took the diary from your hands, and read over it. 

 

“What the hell is this?” Hank’s face was scrunched up. “Jesus, did she join some sort of cult?” 

 

“Anderson, I’d venture a guess that there’s been several women who’ve gone missing under similar circumstances, if you check with the police.” Connor took the diary and skimmed through it. “Looks like this goes back quite a ways.” 

 

“I thought I knew her.” You said, looking up at them in disbelief, tears stinging your eyes. You swallowed the lump in your throat and willed the tears to disappear. 

 

Connor sat next to you, a sympathetic hand touched your shoulder. “We’re going to find her. The police likely aren’t going to investigate this considering she’s willingly left, but we will do what we can to bring her back, or at the very least make sure she’s okay.” 

 

His voice was so smooth and sure, it left little room for disbelief. You nodded. “Thank you.” 

 

“We’ll look over this with you too, see if there’s some sort of clue as to where she could be in them. Unfortunately it seems as though she wasn’t clued in either.” Hank looked around Catherine’s room, as if a clue might just present itself from her vanity or bedsheets. 

 

You heard a loud  _ clunk  _ downstairs. Both of them looked at each other and Hank drew his sidearm. “Stay behind me, Connor.”

 

“Got it.” He pulled out his sidearm as well, and they ventured down the stairs, you were close behind, curious what it could be that made the noise. 

 

There was nothing downstairs, a shadow flitted past the window by your front door. You gasped lightly. Hank ripped open the front door, looking left and right. There was nothing, just the cold evening breeze. 

 

He stepped outside and his eyes looked concerned. “Come look at this you two.” 

 

You both stepped outside, the breeze chilling you slightly, so you hugged yourself for warmth.

 

On the back of the door was a note, stabbed into the door with a large, hunting knife. In bold red writing it read:

 

DON’T LOOK FOR HER

 

Your stomach dropped. A threat, but why? And how did they know? Your breath stopped sharp in your chest before you could find it again.

 

Connor swiped at one of the letters, sniffing the residue, then licking it. “It’s just ink, it’s not blood.” As if he was sensing your concern. 

 

Hank scrunched his nose at Connor’s investigative technique. “Whoever has your friend intends to keep it that way.” Hank quipped, yanking the knife out of the door, and taking the letter. “You’re no longer safe. This is a threat. You should stay with us, for the time being.”

 

“We share a house on the outside of town,” Connor explained. “Hank has a big dog as well, sweet thing, but he looks scary.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. What if Catherine-“ you cut off your own words. She wasn’t coming back any time soon. You sighed, defeated. “Fine, let me get my things.” 

 

You desperately needed a drink. 

 

You walked up your stairs, past Catherine’s room. You paused there, looking at her pristine surroundings, aside from the torn floorboard. Like a crack in the foundation of everything you knew about her. The twist in your stomach returned.

 

You gathered up clothing haphazardly and stuffed it in a too small suitcase. You didn’t want to look back at her room again. You made your way to the exit.

 

The drive to their home was quiet, you stared at the grey sky, clutching your belongings. You rested your chin on the hard shell suitcase. 

 

You arrived, Hank letting you in as a large, fluff of a dog greeted you with a nuzzle and a lick. You distractedly scratched behind his ear. “You can take my room,” Connor offered. “I don’t mind the couch.”

 

“Are you sure? You’ve already done so much.” 

 

“I insist.” He smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

 

You nodded, before taking a deep sigh. “Listen, I need a drink, would either of you like to accompany me to the bar?” 

 

Hank shook his head. “I do my drinking alone, thanks. And I need to look over this diary. Connor, you go.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” he led you to the door, and you both caught a taxi to Jimmy’s Bar. 

 

It was mostly empty, aside from a few stragglers. It was a weeknight, after all. You ordered a dirty martini, and he ordered a whiskey neat. 

 

You sat down at the bar next to each other. You swirled the olive in your drink and then sipped on it. “So, Connor,” you began with a half-hearted grin, trying to shove out these horrible feelings within you. “Tell me about you. We’re here at this bar and you’re chaperoning me, might as well get to know each other right?”

 

He looked down at his drink with a bashful smile. “Well, I grew up here in Detroit, and joined the military during the Second World War.” He looked down, some level of grief in his eyes that he didn’t want to get into. “Hank and I served together, that’s where we met.” He slicked his hair back and took a gulp of his whiskey. “When we got back, we joined the Detroit Police, but frankly we were done taking orders and deviated on our own, and here we are.” He smiled, “not all that exciting, now is it?” 

 

“You seem like a fascinating character to me, Connor.” You smiled and sipped on your dirty martini some more, you maybe inched a little closer to him but you weren’t sure. 

 

“What about you?” He grinned, resting his elbow on the bar, looking at you with those warm eyes. 

 

Those eyes made you want to spill your soul, every dream, every secret. “Well, I moved here. I lived in the middle of nowhere North of here. I hated the emptiness of it all. I moved to Detroit and went to school to be a nurse. I work part time at the hospital.” 

 

“Well, I feel safe knowing that if I get hurt you’ll save my skin.” He grinned, downing the rest of his drink. You felt compelled to do the same, so you did.

 

“God forbid. But I’ll definitely try my best.” 

 

You both got new drinks and decided to step out onto the patio, the city was quiet at night. You looked up at the moon and wondered if Catherine was looking at it too. No matter where you were, you were under the same stars and the same moon. Your dearest friend. 

 

Connor could sense your contemplation. He wrapped an arm around you. “We’ll find her, (Y/N).” 

 

You felt frustration bubble up a bit. “How do you know that for sure?” You asked pointedly. 

 

“I always accomplish my mission.” He stood closer to you. 

 

Your frustration deflated, the alcohol swimming in your head. You felt a new well of emotions, some anger, grief, disbelief. You downed your drink once more. You weren’t typically a drinker, but you felt with the occasion it was appropriate.

 

“I feel so, so stupid,” you looked at the street and the taxis, “I loved her, I was so close with her and I never even suspected.”

 

“Unfortunately, that was the point. She planned this secret life, and she probably didn’t want to be found after she went missing. You can’t blame yourself. Blame the people who romanced her into this idea, and use that anger to find her, (Y/N). But don’t let it consume you.” He had his hands on your shoulders.

 

You wiped away a rebellious tear that you couldn’t will away. He placed his hand on your chin, tilting your head up, looking into your eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you desperately wished he would kiss you. 

 

Instead he reached up and wiped away another tear from your cheek with his thumb. His hand lingered there a while, taking in your features. 

 

He was a genuine person, and above all empathetic, and you think he understood that it wouldn’t be right in your current emotional state to kiss you. The desire in his eye was unmistakable, and it wasn’t just the alcohol that spurned the desire. You fell for him in that moment, but only just a little.

 

At least that’s what you told yourself.

 

He dropped his hand from your face softly, and glanced toward the street, leaning on the iron gate facing the road ahead. You were both silent in this exchange of actions.

 

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he didn’t say anything, simply wrapping his arm around you. His presence was comforting and warm, and it felt  _ safe.  _

 

You spoke to each other little more after that. Just enjoying the presence of one another. He closed out your tab, insisting on paying, and you both hopped into a taxi and headed back to the house.

 

When you got inside you put on your pajamas, a very large cotton tee that you reserved specifically for sleeping. Hank was asleep on the couch, a bottle of scotch leaning against his limp frame. You put the cap back on it, just in case. Connor sat at the kitchen table, writing vigorously in his notebook. “Connor, aren’t you tired?” 

 

“I don’t sleep much, it leaves less time to be productive.” He didn’t look up from his writing at all. 

 

You were slightly taken aback by his answer, but you nodded in understanding. “Connor, can I ask you for a favor?” He put his pen down and turned to you. 

 

“Yes, anything.” He looked you up and down, but not in a lascivious way, just curiously. 

 

“Listen, I’m a little… frightened, by everything happening. Could you stay with me while I fall asleep?” You felt like a small child asking such a silly question. 

 

He blinked a few times, then smiled, “Of course, today was Hell, I understand. I imagine having someone with you while you’re feeling so vulnerable would be comforting.” 

 

He accompanied you to the bedroom he usually used. It was even tidier than Catherine’s room was. Everything looked to have its proper place, from his small knick knacks, to the pens on his desk, which sat in one cup, and the pencils sat in another. 

 

You cleared your throat and slid into bed, covering yourself to your neck and turning on your side. He climbed in next to you, and you were face to face. He was truly quite a beautiful man, the yellow tint of the light in the room made his eyes look warmer than they already were, his five o’ clock shadow made him look ever-so-slightly grizzled, especially coupled with the darker circles under his eyes. Seeing him so close made you feel grounded, sober even. 

 

“Thank you for taking care of me tonight.” You said softly. “I needed this.” 

 

“Anytime.” He touched that spot on your cheek again, where the tear was stopped earlier. “I hope my presence brings you a small measure of peace.” 

 

“It does.” You scooted closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. 

 

“I hope this is okay, I just thought--”

 

“You think a lot don’t you?” You lightly joked. “You’re fine, this is nice.” 

 

“Hank tells me I overthink everything.” He frowned. 

 

“It’s okay, it’s better than underthinking!” You chuckle lightly. It’s quiet for a moment, the sound of Connor’s heartbeat calming you. “I’m just… I’m really glad you’re here with me through this nightmare.”    
  


“I’m not going anywhere.” He held you a little tighter, and you managed to start drifting asleep. You thought you heard him say, “I promise.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really feeling some fluff for this chapter, we'll get back to the mystery in the next one though! No worries! (: Thank you again for the support and love, it truly means a lot to me. 
> 
> \- B.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at writing noir! I can't wait to write more, please let me know what you think, and if you want to see more Detroit: Become Noir!
> 
> Much Love, 
> 
> \- B


End file.
